


Everything That Kills Me Makes Me Feel Alive

by alexofmacedonia



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, F/F, Mentions of Suicide, Recreational Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts, canon divergent after 2x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 11:30:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1548986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexofmacedonia/pseuds/alexofmacedonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contains SPOILERS through 2x02. Alison feels completely alone now that her friends and even her clones have all abandoned her. She visits Beth’s grave and contemplates making the same choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything That Kills Me Makes Me Feel Alive

**Author's Note:**

> The fic title comes from "Counting Stars" by OneRepublic.

“Bye, Mommy!” Her children raced each other to the school bus, took a seat together, and waved out the window as they pulled away. Alison smiled and held her robe together at her throat with one hand as she waved back with the other, not putting her hand down until the large yellow bus turned the corner down the street. She bent down to grab the morning paper and went back inside.

She found Donnie in the kitchen, buttering a piece of toast. “Honey, have you seen my keys? I swear I had them a second ago, but I can’t find them now,” he asked without looking at her.

She opened the refrigerator and reached for the eggs carton. “Did you check the cupboards?”

“No. Why would they be in there?”

With a sigh, she shut the fridge and sidled around Donnie, opening the cupboard above the coffee maker, which was right in front of him. Lo and behold, a set of keys was sitting beside the container for their fresh-ground coffee beans. She scooped them up, slapped them down on the counter in front of her husband, and went to back to the fridge for eggs and orange juice.

“Oh. Thank you,” Donnie said pleasantly as he put his keys in his suit pocket. He filled a stainless steel travel mug with the last of the coffee, securing the lid before he picked up his briefcase. Alison made no move to leave the stove where she’d just cracked an egg into a frying pan, so he went to her.

“Bye, Ali. Love you.” He kissed her on the cheek and stood there for a second longer, waiting for a reply.

She forced her mouth into a tight smile. “Have a good day at work.” Her tone was clipped, but he mistook it as her just waking up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. Again.

Alison calmly chopped up the egg and pushed the bits around while she listened for the putter of Donnie’s car heading down the street and the garage door falling back into place. Almost mechanically, she finished making her scrambled eggs, and then decided to put the juice box back into the fridge, opting instead for a fresh bottle of Chardonnay. She had been awake for an hour, and that was an hour too long of sobriety.

She ate her breakfast in the dining room, the lime green clone phone on the table beside her plate. Just looking at the phone almost made her burst into tears, but she convinced herself to push those feelings back down. Soon she would be sufficiently buzzed, and it wouldn’t hurt as much.

It had been just under two weeks since she’d been ditched. Twelve days of waiting, of tortured loneliness, of not knowing who was good or bad, or what was right or wrong.

Well, she thought it had been that long anyway. The days were kind of running together thanks to the amount of pills she’d been taking, mixed with the near-constant intake of travel-sized vodka and many bottles of wine. It had definitely been at least ten days, she was sure of it. Going through the usual motions of her life was easy enough, especially since every day was the same monotonous routine as this morning’s: Making sack lunches for her children and Donnie, packing Gemma and Oscar’s backpacks for school, saying goodbye as they got on the bus for school, and finally wishing Donnie a good day as he left for work. Once she was alone, she would check her email and voicemail – on both phones, just in case – praying for word from Sarah, from Felix, or from Cosima. _Or Beth_ , a quiet voice always murmured in the back of her mind. Every day, the clone phone remained silent, and her text, voicemail, and email inboxes all remained empty.

After breakfast, she would clip coupons from the daily newspaper and meticulously organize them in a binder, first by store and then by category. Food items always came first, then household necessities like toilet paper, and anything else came last. Normally Hip Hop Abs followed coupon sorting, which took half an hour, and sometimes she spent another twenty minutes on the Stairmaster. The midafternoon was usually filled with meeting with the other stay-at-home moms on the block for book clubs or gossiping, or more recently, musical rehearsals down at the community center. For the first few days after Felix and Sarah left, she had had Blood Ties to focus on, and she threw herself – mind, body, and soul – into every rehearsal. They’d performed last week though, and now the community theater was on a hiatus while Alexander worked on getting the rights for their next show. With no more musical forcing her old friends to talk to her, virtually everyone had completely abandoned her. No more book club at Aynsley’s, no more gossip with cheese and wine at Meera’s, no more comparing family vacation photos at Charity’s. Sarah Stubbs was the only one who kept calling to check in on her, but Alison could only handle the overly upbeat woman for so long.

Due to being intoxicated all the time in one way or another, Alison had chosen to stop clipping coupons a couple days ago. There was no point anymore, as she was beginning to feel there might not be need for coupons in the near future. Exercise also went out the window, since it took balance and sobriety to do it right. Thus, instead of her normal routine after the kids and Donnie were gone, she’d taken to just sitting in front of the television with a bottle of wine, watching whatever black and white movies were playing that day. Around lunchtime she would check the clone phone again, sometimes turning it off and back on to be sure it was still working. There was never anything new, of course.

Her friends had all left, her husband wasn’t the man she had thought he was, and the other clones had deserted her. Without any of those as a distraction, her afternoons were now wide open. Completely, maddeningly, empty and open.

Finishing the last of her drink with a large swallow, Alison glanced at a small clock on an end table. It was only eight-forty a.m. She sighed and dropped her head down to rest on her arm on the table.

She had to find something to do today. Preferably something crafty, because having a project usually helped keep her grounded. Alison had completed her Christmas cards a couple days before though, and they were all in the mail as of the day before. She didn’t have anything new to add to her scrapbook – Aynsley’s funeral seemed tacky, and while she’d toyed with the idea of adding a page filled with her new clone sisters, she quickly discarded that thought. Gemma was still a little too young for class projects, and Oscar hadn’t told her about any coming up that he’d need her help with.

Lifting her head, she poked a button on the clone phone that made the screen light up, but nothing new showed on the screen. She rose from the table, taking her dirty plate to the dishwasher, and filled her glass with more wine.

For the second time in barely three minutes, Alison checked her phone. Still nothing. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she swore under her breath.

She knew she and Sarah had gotten off on the wrong foot, but she felt they had really come around and started liking each other, especially after Alison helped Sarah by impersonating her in front of Mrs. S, and then Sarah had covered for Alison while she was drunk at that neighborhood potluck. Even Felix had become her closest friend, almost like a brother. But they left; disappearing off the grid for God only knows how long, trying to make sure the Proletheans and Mrs. S and Rachel and the DYAD and probably the whole rest of the world couldn’t get their hands on Sarah’s daughter, Kira.

Cosima obviously had to distance herself from Alison and Sarah to make Dr. Leekie think she was on their side. Felix had told her to call Cosima, saying she could help, and Cosima had tried being there for her for a couple days, but then there were five unreturned phone calls in as many days, so Alison gave up. She just hoped Cosima knew what she was doing, going into the belly of the beast like that.

As Alison paced along the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, racking her brain for anything she could do to keep sane, she kept hearing one of the last things she’d said to Felix. It was almost a daily mantra now, unbidden as it was, and she could no longer deny the truth. _“Even my own clones think I’m useless!”_ Fe had tried telling her that none of them thought of her as useless, but really, what could she do for them? She supplied unregistered guns and could cough up thousands of dollars at the drop of a hat, but she wasn’t smart like Cosima, nor was she a resilient badass like Sarah or Beth.

Beth. To her dying day, Alison would feel bitter toward Beth. They had grown so close, she had taught Alison so much, and then she just… left. No note, no explanation. Just… gone. Somehow, the thought that Beth didn’t love her enough to stay, to live, hurt way worse than having a husband who was only there because his job was to watch her. Every memory of their time together stabbed Alison in the gut, twisting and wrenching until only Beth-sized holes were left.

No. She couldn’t go down that road. There had to be something, _anything_ , that could keep her busy. She stopped in front of a window looking out over the front lawn. _Was that a smudge?_ Closer inspection proved that the window could use cleaning. She thought about it, and couldn’t remember the last time she had done a full house cleanse. Alison yet again emptied her glass as she headed back into the kitchen to grab cleaning supplies from under the sink. Well, at least she’d found her project for the day.

* * *

The house had needed a thorough cleaning more than she’d first realized, and by the time Alison finished the last bathroom she was sweaty, hungry, and satisfied. After depositing the cleaning caddy back under the kitchen sink, she poured a new glass of wine and used it to wash down a couple Xanax.

Checking the green phone told her it was now one in the afternoon, and no one had contacted her. Perfect.

She made a quick sandwich - ham, mustard, tomatoes, and lettuce on whole grain - and polished off another glass of wine with it, while a rerun of Golden Girls on TV Land droned in the background. Two episodes had played before she realized she had just been sitting there, staring at her empty plate. She _really_ needed to find something to occupy herself with.

The shooting range appeared in her mind’s eye. With Sarah MIA and Beth gone, Alison was more vulnerable than ever. She figured she should prepare herself for protection against any of Leekie’s men coming to kidnap her again. She had mostly held her own against those thugs last time - she knew she had at least broken one man’s nose - but they had still managed to get her inside the black SUV with Daniel. No question about it, she _needed_ to be ready next time.

Alison took her dishes to the dishwasher and then went up to her bedroom to change into pants and a shirt. Ten minutes later she was backing out of her driveway with a thermos filled with red wine sitting in a cupholder beside her, a headset for ear protection was on the passenger seat, and a gun and five clips of bullets were in the glove box.

As she parked by the old rundown barn, memories of the first time she had come here came flooding back.

_Alison looked around at the abandoned farm. ‘What are we doing out here?’_

_Beth shifted the gear to park and turned the car off. ‘Come on, I’ll show you.’ She reached down beside the seat and popped the trunk open and then exited the car, slamming the door behind her. Alison scrambled to get out too, and joined the other woman at the back of the car._

_'Here, you take this and these.' Beth handed her a giant headset and a gun._

_Wait. A gun?!_

_'Beth, what in Sam Hill is going on? What am I supposed to do with this?' She held the gun out at arm's length, the bottom of the grip dangling from between her thumb and forefinger._

_'Remember when I asked you last week if you knew how to use a gun? Just in case we get hunted down by the Euro-clone killer? You said you'd never even touched a gun before, so now I'm going to teach you.' Beth put a second headset around her neck and grabbed a case full of clips of bullets. Her gun was already in its holster underneath one arm. She closed the trunk and strode over to an open patch of grass. Alison hurried to follow, still feeling apprehensive._

_'See those cans?'_

_Alison squinted in the direction Beth pointed. Halfway across the field sitting atop a row of fence posts were six tin coffee cans. ‘Wait, you want me to try to hit those?’ One hand rested on her cheek as she stared at the targets._

_‘You’ll be fine. You’ve got me for a teacher.’ Beth grinned and looked sideways at her. She loaded a clip into her gun and poked Alison in the shoulder. ‘Now come here so I can show you how these work.’_

_Beth was very thorough as a teacher, which Alison appreciated. The first lesson was how to load the gun and where the safety was. She was shown how to stand, how to position her arms so the kickback wouldn’t knock her on her behind, and how to aim before taking a shot. Before too long she was actually hitting the posts under the cans instead of just shooting the air._

_The summer sun was setting by the time Alison was down to her last bullet. Even with no trees to cast shadows to obscure her view, the dimming light was enough to prompt Beth to say ‘Okay, one last try and then we’ll pack up for the night.’_

_Alison nodded. One more shot. That Folgers can was hers. She checked her stance, gripped the gun firmly with one hand with the other hand holding it steady, and closed one eye for better accuracy. Her finger squeezed the trigger and –_

_PING!_

_The can flew backward, landing somewhere in the tall grass. For a second they both stood there in silence._

_‘Holy shit! You did it!’ Beth crowed, hands raised over her head in excitement. She turned to Alison who was staring slack jawed at the fence posts._

_The suburbanite whispered, ‘Jeezy Creezy, I actually hit it.’ She lowered her arms and turned to face Beth._

_‘You’re damn right you hit it!’ They both broke out into giant smiles and Alison rushed forward to give Beth a crushing hug._

_‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’ She felt good, powerful, like she could protect her family from anyone now._

_Their arms loosened their hold on one another and they both pulled their heads back, but they remained in the embrace._

_Maybe it was the blood pumping wildly through her veins at that moment, or maybe she had finally decided to let her inhibitions go, but Alison leaned forward and pressed her lips against Beth’s. Expecting resistance, even aggression, she was surprised to feel arms reach up to circle themselves around her neck and pull her further into the kiss._

Six months later, Alison sat in her idling car with a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back tears. That had been their first kiss of many, and they frequently came out here over the following months, both to practice Alison’s aim, and to have some privacy as they grew closer in their relationship. It had been a little weird at first – neither of them could deny that, since they were identical to each other and neither had necessarily ever thought of being with a woman before that – but it was also natural. They deeply cared for each other, and a week before Beth killed herself, she’d been the first to say “I love you.”

Beth couldn’t have really loved her, though. Not if she decided dying was better than sticking around and trying to get to the bottom of their crazy new lives.

With a sigh, Alison shut the car off. She put the headset around her neck, stowed the gun and the clips in her jacket pockets, and got out. The Xanax-and-wine mixture running through her body had begun to make itself known, making her first few steps out of the car uncertain, but she shook her head to clear it and walked over to the barn.

Halfway down the side of the building, she found what she was looking for. A couple weeks after she found out about Beth’s suicide, she had commissioned a mason in Toronto to make a simple headstone. _Elizabeth Childs_ , it read, _Born April 1, 1984 Died November 23, 2012 Sister, friend, lover You will be missed_. She had brought it out here in lieu of putting it up anywhere else, because this was _their_ place. It would always be theirs. Thus Alison felt it deserved to be Beth’s resting place, even if her body wasn’t here.

She lowered herself to her knees in front of the marker. The finality of Beth’s death was still taking its time sinking in, but she knew in her heart that this was it. “How could you do this to me? _Why_ did you do it?” she rasped. Alison felt her throat closing up, the tears forming in her eyes threatening to spill over any second.

Everything going wrong in her life bubbled to the surface. Beth dying, Aynsley dying, Donnie being her real monitor, her clones abandoning her, all of her former friends deserting her…. What was the point anymore? Maybe Beth had the right idea after all. Maybe Beth knew everything was hopeless and had just decided to end her life before the shit truly hit the fan.

Well, now the shit was flying everywhere and Alison wanted nothing more to do with any of it. She pulled the green clone phone out of an inside pocket on her jacket and pushed a button to make it light up: still no calls or texts.

Sarah and Cosima and anyone else they found could take care of themselves. None of them needed her. They had proven that much over the past two weeks.

She laughed sardonically at the fact that she’d come out here just to practice shooting. She’d brought a deadly weapon to the place where she’d set up a grave marker for her dead girlfriend, by herself. Maybe she knew in the back of her mind what she planned to do once she got out here, and just didn’t care to make herself think it over first.

No matter. She would be with Beth again soon, and that’s all that mattered to her.

Alison crawled over to sit with her back against the barn wall, the headstone next to her. Fresh tears were falling, falling down to her fingers and making them slick as she fiddled with the gun, but it didn’t matter. The clip clicked into place, and she cradled the gun in her lap for a moment. Should she say a prayer? Ask God for forgiveness? Should she call home and leave a voicemail for her children, tell them she loves them? Maybe even try calling Sarah or Felix or Cosima to say goodbye? No, none of that would do anyone any good. Better to just do the dirty deed and get it over with.

The gun still rested in her lap when she heard a twig snap. Alison whipped her head to look in the direction the sound came from, and couldn’t believe her eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking of doing with that gun, but I’m going to ask nicely that you put the safety on and put it aside.” The voice sounded just like hers, the figure looked exactly like her. It couldn’t be her, though. She was dead.

“Thank you, but I don’t think I want to listen to the ghost of my dead girlfriend.” Alison turned her attention back to her lap.

“Well, will you listen to your living girlfriend?” The phantom was coming closer, breaking more twigs and crunching leaves as she walked.

Alison’s eyebrows knit together. Ghosts couldn’t make noise like that, could they? They didn’t have physical bodies that could step on leaves and such. She gasped and looked up at the woman who was now two feet away from her. “Is it really you?” she said in barely more than a whisper. The woman nodded. Alison quickly got to her feet, the gun lying forgotten on the ground. She stood still for only a second before she vaulted herself into Beth’s open arms. “It really is you! You’re alive! Oh, Beth, I can’t believe you’re really here!” she cried, burying her face in the other woman’s shoulder.

Beth held her tightly and kissed her hair on the back of her head. “I’m so sorry I did that to you. I had to, I didn’t have any other choice, but I’m so sorry I left you like that.”

“I know you have your reasons. I’m really angry right now, but I’m more grateful you’re alive.” Alison pulled back and looked Beth square in the eyes sternly. “Do that again, though, and I’ll really put you in a grave myself.”

“Deal,” Beth laughed. She leaned forward and kissed Alison. “I’ll explain everything in the car if you want to drive me back to my motel.”

Alison felt herself genuinely smiling for the first time in weeks. She wasn’t so alone after all.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr - bibecamitchell


End file.
